


I Thought You Were—

by eating_custardinbed



Series: The Internet Made Me Write It [1]
Category: IT Crowd
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute, Fake Character Death, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Character Death, I’m sorry, M/M, Mean, One Shot, Sad, Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Short, Short One Shot, angsty, i apologise in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eating_custardinbed/pseuds/eating_custardinbed
Summary: Moss gets an unexpected visit regarding Roy one night
Relationships: Maurice Moss/Roy Trenneman
Series: The Internet Made Me Write It [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990789
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	I Thought You Were—

**Author's Note:**

> yeah okay so I’m sorry. this is angsty and mean and I love it. I felt bad that the main fic wasn’t updating today so I thought I’d treat you all to this oneshot!! yes, I hear you ask, the procrastination *is* going well!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this!

Maybe moving into his own place had been a bad idea, Moss thought.

His very first set of bills had just come through, and it was fair to say that he was _stressed_. He’d never had to pay bills before, and he was in a right palaver trying to figure out how to do it. God, if he could only call Roy… he’d know what to do. Thing was, Roy was out at a party and had left strict instructions not to be contacted. Jen was away on holiday with whichever boyfriend she was with at the moment, and he was too proud and too stubborn to call his mother, so he was on his own. 

As he reread the electric company’s letter again, he let out a frustrated noise. He _thought_ he’d set up a direct debit, could have sworn it, but apparently this was not the case. He did not have the nerves nor the energy to try and call them tonight, but if he didn’t figure out how to pay soon then his electricity would be cut off, and he couldn’t have that. Dropping the letter onto the table, he put his head in his hands. How was he ever going to survive on his own?

So you can imagine his feelings when there came a knock at the door. 

Normally he wouldn’t have taken notice of it, but things were a little upside-down at the moment given the circumstances. Even his mother answered the door when she knew it could be important. He moved his head, looking towards the door. He contemplated not getting up. Maybe they would just go away if he didn’t answer? Unfortunately this soon became impossible as another knock sounded through the flat, more insistent this time. Swallowing shakily, he got up from the kitchen table and walked over to the front door, steeling himself for a moment before unlocking the door. 

It was not a big, gruff mafia-type man standing there, ready to drag him off and beat him to death with his own shoe for not paying his electric bill on time. It was, in fact, a policeman. He was a scrawny looking fellow, nothing at all like what he had been expecting, but the man’s short stature and slightly sickly look did nothing to stop Moss’ heart from beginning to hammer inside of his chest. 

“Are you Maurice Moss?” the man asked. Moss opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words all that came out was an odd choked noise. The policeman furrowed his brow, getting his phone from his pocket and checking it. “I have got the right address, haven--” 

“Yes!” Moss managed to blurt. As the man gave him a strange look he could feel his cheeks start to burn. He shifted, looking down at his shoes. “I mean, um, yes,” he said, his tone subdued. 

“May I come in?” 

Uh oh. This couldn’t be good. Out of politeness (and mostly the fear of what would happen to him if he said no) he nodded, standing to the side to let the man past. The man did not smile, maintaining a sombre look as he came into the flat. As he shut the door, Moss noticed him glance over to the paperwork-covered table.

“What’s this about please, officer?” Moss asked. He stayed over by the door, careful to keep his tone as even, neutral and polite as possible. The man turned to him. 

“Do you know Roy Trenneman?” he asked. Moss nodded. “Are you two partners, or…?” 

It took Moss a moment to realise what the policeman was getting at but when he did he made a small _“oh”_ noise, shaking his head. 

“We’re work colleagues and, um, friends,” he said, stumbling over his words a little in his rush to get them out. 

“But you’re his emergency contact, yes?” 

“Er, yes, officer. You see, Roy has no family over here, but he still wants to have someone there in case anything ever happens, so we agreed years ago that it would be best if I--” It was at this point that Moss seemed to realise that he was rambling and abruptly cut himself off, staring down at his shoes. “Sorry, sir. What’s he done this time?” 

“You may want to sit down,” the officer said. 

Perturbed at this sudden shift to a much softer tone, Moss did so, coming over and sitting down on the sofa. The officer took a deep breath. “Earlier this evening, multiple people witnessed your friend, a little tipsy--” 

“He was at a party,” Moss said before he could stop himself. He pursed his lips. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” the officer said, acknowledging Moss’ apologies for the first time that night. “As I was saying, your friend was a little bit tipsy and decided that climbing the barrier on the Millenium Bridge would be a good idea. Unfortunately the metal was wet and icy, and, well… by the time anyone noticed it was too late.” 

“Is he okay?” Moss asked anxiously. The officer took a deep breath. 

“We were only able to recover his shoe and his jacket,” he said gently. “When the tide goes down we might know for sure, but with the low temperature of the water and your friend’s inebriation… I’m afraid we’re assuming the worst.” 

Moss felt as if a knife had just been driven through him. There was no other way to explain it. The numbness seemed to spread him, going from his stomach all the way to his hands and his feet. He could feel the ends of his fingers tingling. Roy? _Presuming the worst._ That meant… that meant…

“No,” he whispered. The word was quiet and short, but his voice broke halfway through. He shook his head. “No, this is Roy. Roy does stupid things but he always comes back. He always comes back.” 

“I’m sorry,” was all the police officer said. He gave Moss a small sad smile, heading back over to the door. “I’ll come back tomorrow when we know more.” 

After this he said no more, simply turning and letting himself out, leaving Moss alone in the flat. As soon as the door clicked shut Moss pressed his hand over his mouth and let out one loud sob. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. Roy was one of the only constants in his life, one of the only people-- scratch that, one of the only _things_ he truly cared about… he couldn’t be… no. 

_Call someone_. He needed to call someone. If he didn’t, he was bound to do something supremely stupid. Still feeling numb, he got up on shaky legs and walked over to the kitchen table, just managing to grab the phone before his legs gave way and he sank down to the floor. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he dialled with trembling fingers the number of the only person he could think to even call in this situation.

“Moss? You know I’m on holiday, I put that post-it note on your fridge!” 

“Jen,” Moss croaked out. His voice sounded all strange and distorted to him, but then again his vision did feel a little swimmy so that may have just been him.

“Are you okay?” Jen asked. She sounded worried. Moss let out another sob, bending his head. 

“Something’s happened,” he managed to say. 

“What? What’s happened?” 

He opened his mouth to say, but he couldn’t even conjure up the words or even string them together, let alone say them out loud. He shook his head. “Moss?” Jen said again. The concern was mounting in her voice. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.” 

“Roy,” he choked out. “The river. They think... “ he was going to say it, he really was, but he just couldn’t do it. “They’re presuming the worst.” 

“Oh my God,” Jen murmured. Her voice sounded a little choked now too. “I’ll be back in London as soon as I can. It’ll be a couple hours. Are you going to be okay until then?” 

“I think so,” Moss said after a moment. This was, of course, a load of bollocks. Jen made a small noise before telling him to _“hang tight”_ and hanging up. Moss dropped the phone on the floor as soon as she did. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, wedged halfway underneath the kitchen table with his knees drawn up to his chest. He didn’t care. For all he wanted, he could have stayed under there until he died of dehydration or someone decided to come and check on him. It didn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. 

Because he’d never told him, and now he never could. 

Eventually, a knock at the door broke him out of his trance. He didn’t know how long it had been, but given how disjointed his sense of, well, everything felt at the moment it didn’t seem alien to him that it could have been two hours already. It must have been Jen, he reasoned. 

“It’s open,” he managed to call. He couldn’t get up right now. He just… couldn’t. Sure, it might be a robber or a murderer, but at this point it didn’t really matter to him. Soon enough he heard the door open and then close again. It took him a minute or two to bring himself to look up. 

Standing there, dripping wet, half-naked, bare-footed and smelling a little like sewage, was undoubtedly, irrevocably Roy. 

The first thing Moss did was he stared. He stared for a long, long, _long_ time. He stared for so long that Roy started to think that maybe his best friend was having some sort of seizure. Then, just as Roy was about to get Moss’ phone and call an ambulance, Moss seemed to come out of his trance. 

He jumped up, hitting his head on the bottom of the table in the process. Roy moved towards him, but it didn’t seem to phase Moss at all. He ran towards Roy, and as soon as he got to him he began to hit his arm with his hands. Roy gave him a weird look. 

“What—“ he started to say, but Moss interrupted him. 

“You twat!” he yelled. Roy looked at him in surprise. Moss didn’t swear. Moss _never_ swore if he could help it. “You utter utter twat!”

“I know I stink a little bit and I might have trailed water all over your carpet, but I don’t think it warrants this,” Roy said with a small laugh. Moss made a frustrated noise, shaking his head vigorously before going back to hitting Roy. As it started to hurt Roy reached over and caught his best friend’s hands, forcing him to stop. “Alright, Moss, enough now. What’s going on?” 

Roy had been expecting some wacky explanation, something that he could laugh off. Instead something entirely unexpected happened.

Moss bent his head and began to cry.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Roy said a little awkwardly. He let Moss’ hands go, putting a hand on his best friend’s arm. “We can fix the carpet.”

“It’s not the bloody carpet!” Moss sobbed. He leaned further forward, closer to Roy. Almost automatically, Roy put an arm around his friend’s shoulders. 

“What’s going on?” When Moss didn’t answer, Roy furrowed his brow. “Moss, you’re scaring me.”

“They told me you were dead!” Moss yelled. He sounded utterly furious. Roy leaned back a little, looking shocked. 

“They said what?” he asked.

“They said you fell in the river and that they were assuming the worst!” Moss shouted. He reached forward, hitting Roy again. 

“Well, I did fall in the river…” Roy said. His cheeks started to flush a little and he looked down. “But I was right near the edge and a couple of homeless people pulled me out. Thought I’d try to kill myself. Once I explained that I’d just seen some money on the other side and had had one too many drinks they let me go. Wanted to phone you but lost my jacket to the river.”

“Oh,” Moss murmured. Now he had had a while to think about it, he seemed to have calmed down a little, and was staring at a spot on the wall just above Roy’s shoulder. 

“Why are you so fussed anyway, Moss?” Roy asked with a shrug. Moss stopped, looking up to his best friend. 

“You’re my best friend,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“That’s sweet,” Roy said, smiling at him. Moss smiled at him, taking a moment. _Remember the feeling,_ he thought. _You need to tell him._

Before anyone could say anyone else, Moss surged forward and kissed Roy right on the lips. 

He tasted like river water. Moss had expected his first kiss with Roy to taste… well, not like river water. His lips were a little cold too, but soft and mostly warm. It was good. No, better than good. It was _perfect._ It wasn’t what he had imagined nor expected, but it was just perfect. 

After a moment, Moss pulled slowly away, eyelids flickering. He looked up at Roy, who was breathing shallowly and looking down at him in shock. 

“I’m sorry,” Moss whispered. “But I couldn’t go on knowing that you didn’t know.”

“I-I…” Roy stammered. He blinked, seemingly unable to do much else. Moss looked down at his shoes. 

“I know,” he said quietly. “It’s fine. I just—“

Roy cut him off with a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this!! please leave comments and/or kudos if you can, they make my day!!!
> 
> stay safe and happy yall xx


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